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A review by lectoribenevolo
Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle by Betty MacDonald
4.0
This book is the latest in a series of children's classics I am reading with my son that I never read when I was a child. (It's funny how long that list is; I recall being an avid reader as a child, but I missed so, so much.)
This book introduces us to the titular character, a genial oddball, beloved by children, who comes up with clever ways to "cure" various children of vices such as eating too slowly, not wanting to bathe, and being needlessly quarrelsome with siblings. She is a gentle, kind, wise presence, but what's entertaining is that there is an undercurrent of wicked humor throughout. She doesn't quite go full Roald Dahl, but she could have if she wanted.
My son--who, bless him, is almost nine-- had one of his first moments of critical distance in reading this book. He noted that, without exception, whenever a child's father appears, his only relationship to his child is to (a) threaten to spank or beat the child, or (b) to call his child some unflattering name. He is absolutely correct. The fathers in this book are mercurial, impatient, and inordinately fond of meting out physical discipline. It is rather jarring to contemporary sensibilities to read of a father telling his wife to wait until he comes home so he can give their son a good flaying. The mothers, and Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, opt for cleverness, and their way ends up working.
(My wife noted that MacDonald was clued in to one of the constants in the life of women: the use of wit and creativity to deal with the violence and short tempers of men. She isn't wrong.)
MacDonald's writing voice is peculiar and interesting. Aside from her wicked sense of humor, she has an unrivaled talent for writing these long, breathless run-on sentences that shouldn't work, but somehow do. She doesn't resort to them constantly, not constantly enough for them to feel affected, but when she does, the effect is pleasantly disconcerting. A high school grammarian would redline a lot of her sentences, but she manages to turn those sentences into desultory music. That's talent.
This book introduces us to the titular character, a genial oddball, beloved by children, who comes up with clever ways to "cure" various children of vices such as eating too slowly, not wanting to bathe, and being needlessly quarrelsome with siblings. She is a gentle, kind, wise presence, but what's entertaining is that there is an undercurrent of wicked humor throughout. She doesn't quite go full Roald Dahl, but she could have if she wanted.
My son--who, bless him, is almost nine-- had one of his first moments of critical distance in reading this book. He noted that, without exception, whenever a child's father appears, his only relationship to his child is to (a) threaten to spank or beat the child, or (b) to call his child some unflattering name. He is absolutely correct. The fathers in this book are mercurial, impatient, and inordinately fond of meting out physical discipline. It is rather jarring to contemporary sensibilities to read of a father telling his wife to wait until he comes home so he can give their son a good flaying. The mothers, and Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, opt for cleverness, and their way ends up working.
(My wife noted that MacDonald was clued in to one of the constants in the life of women: the use of wit and creativity to deal with the violence and short tempers of men. She isn't wrong.)
MacDonald's writing voice is peculiar and interesting. Aside from her wicked sense of humor, she has an unrivaled talent for writing these long, breathless run-on sentences that shouldn't work, but somehow do. She doesn't resort to them constantly, not constantly enough for them to feel affected, but when she does, the effect is pleasantly disconcerting. A high school grammarian would redline a lot of her sentences, but she manages to turn those sentences into desultory music. That's talent.